Saeva
by Merle's Right Hand
Summary: Sophia's story after she gets lost in the woods. Spoilers for season 2.


_The Walking Dead_ is obviously not mine, nor am I making any profit from this work of fiction; it is purely for entertainment purposes only.

** Saeva**

It was barely daylight by the time she found the small creek. Clutching the doll to her chest, she crept along the bank, heading further down stream. Glancing up she noted that the embankment sloped steeply upwards, the tall earthen walls lined with trees and foliage.

A load snap behind her caused Sophia to freeze as her heartbeat thundered in her ears and her breath to shuttered in her lungs. The sound of birds' wings fluttering in sudden flight broke the silence of the forest, followed by the tell-tale groan of a monster.

Quaking with fear, she turned slowly, catching sight of the walker, a farmer once by the look of his dirty overalls, as he shambled towards her with a renewed purpose.

Dashing across the water, her feet slipped on the submerged rocks, sending her tumbling and sputtering into the creek. Her hold loosened on the doll, arms flailing momentarily as she pushed herself upright, plunged through the water toward the woods. Crashing into the underbrush, the growling was close behind, trampling through all manner of vegetation. Air burned harsh in her lungs, heart thudded in her chest as her footfalls quick while small supple tree branches thwacked her as she pushed ahead.

Suddenly -there!- up ahead, a large tree with a good sized hole at the base of it, perfect for her escape. She could _just_ make it-

She was jerked to a stop before a sharp, burning sensation tore like fire through her left shoulder. Wrenching herself free Sophia tore loose, scrambling for the tree trunk and pressed her small frame inside, away from the entrance as the walker tried to grab hold of her.

Reaching across herself she brushed her shoulder, her hand coming back slick. She never knew blood could be so red even in the gloom. She wanted to cry, to call out for her momma, to be saved, but all she felt was dizzy. She'd been bitten by a walker and she had little time left if the amount of blood pooling around her was any indication.

Her arms and legs were growing numb as her eyelids grew heavy. She could feel her heart struggle to pump what little blood was left in her, and as she closed her eyes and the walker's groans faded to a dull hiss, "Momma..." slipped quietly from her mouth.

* * *

Flashes of snapping jaws, deep throated growls and hollow dead eyes sifted in as her brain and body began to reanimate. Lifeless eyes opened as a soft guttural moan passed her lips. Crawling from the tree, her legs moved her forward of their own accord, her motions jerky and unsure.

Wandering through the woods, the light that filtered through the forest canopy signaled late morning hours, daylight. She ambled through the woods, heedless of a direction, stumbling through a small stream.

Then the smell accompanied by a great hunger. Off a ways to her right. Then she saw it; a large bit of prey. Before she could attack it, it held her captive at her throat. She snapped and railed against her confinement as her prey kept her out of reach. Prey marched her through the woods, across a field and into a large wooden structure. Inside were other growling wanderers shuffled about, occasionally ripping apart the small living prey that would appear.

Then, she heard voices. More prey. Just on the other side of the wood, their stench of sweat and flesh tantalizing One prey spoke, yelling so angrily it sounded like them, like her. Then ligt poured in and the other growling wanderers slipped out into the glow, hungry and vicious. Deafening calamity rang out then, out in that brightness and she was the only one left.

Talking prey, it spoke again, gruff and harsh against the wailing. Moving forward to the other side, she stepped out into the sunlight. Prey, this one tall, short silver hair atop it head, cried out, running towards her, welcoming her. Another prey caught it, kept it from coming too close, from being food. All of the prey looked upon her in silence, fear on their faces as she growled softly.

A different prey stepped forward, shinning silver in its hand. She could still hear the wailing and sobbing as she reached for it and the prey as her hunger overtook her. A clap of thunder sounded, loud and ringing and her world went silent and black.


End file.
